


Bad Touch

by Kiyuo_Honoo



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Gen, Non-Consensual Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuo_Honoo/pseuds/Kiyuo_Honoo
Summary: Cheetor ends up in Tarantulas clutches once again.
Kudos: 5
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Bad Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I was going to end up adding more to this, but nope, not gonna.

Cheetor hunched down, teeth clenched down tightly in an effort to keep the noises silently clicking against his vocalizer from escaping, as he kept edging away from Tarantulas as the arachnid moved about his lair. He was lucky enough not to be found yet but he’d be discovered soon if he couldn’t keep quiet. The youngster so did not want to deal with Rattrap after the last time he got captured by the spider.

And he just couldn’t take getting that disappointed look from Big Boss again. It always made him feel bad.

Crouching closer to the ground, Cheetor swallowed back another sound as he tracked the Predacon’s movements. When the spider moved closer to his hiding spot, he stepped back and carefully put his feet down in an attempt to avoid any loose rocks strewn about that would give him away. Unfortunately, he didn’t check behind him. He froze as his aft hit rock, and a look back had him swallowing again.

Oh, scrap.

“Well well, isn’t the little kitty cat.”

Cheetor yelped, swinging his helm back around and jumping backward in shock at how close Tarantulas was. His back slammed against the wall from the lack of room and Cheetor did his best to stay balanced on his hind legs as the arachnid moved closer.

His fur bristled in fear as one of the spider’s pedipalps brushed against his face, the two digits framing his muzzle shut before running over his helm and wrapping around his neck. Cheetor let out a soft noise as his back pressed harder against the wall and was dragged up to dangle from the floor. One of his hind legs kicked out as the barest feeling brushed against his lower abdomen and moved along the top of his hip.

“The Maximals haven’t done a very good job keeping you protected. And now you’re in the big bad spider’s web.”

Tarantulas let out a chilling laugh.


End file.
